


The Fear.

by EmIsSoEpic



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4769177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmIsSoEpic/pseuds/EmIsSoEpic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The darkness has spread, there's no escape. Thousands, maybe millions are dead but that doesn't matter. All that matters is surviving. </p><p>Even if survival means sacrifice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing to spring to everyone's mind was one simple word. 

_Fuck._

Almost any word would have been sufficient but 'fuck' seemed to suit the situation a little more. 'Fuck' was loud and proud. It was the word an entire nation was thinking, the word the entire world would be thinking in less than twenty-four hours. Something was wrong, everyone knew it but so did 'fuck'. 'Fuck' knew that something was wrong more than anyone ever could. The simple word conveyed every emotion being felt, the anger, the nervousness, the hope but mostly the fear. 

The fear could eat them alive. Dean Winchester felt it and felt it bad. His heart pounded and he shouted as the darkness was all he could see. 

_Sam. Shit, where's Sam?_

He crouched by his car and opened his door but it just blew shut again, his fingers narrowly avoiding being slammed in. They'd really fucked up this time. Big time. The Apocalypse had been prevented but now _this_? 

_What did this mean? What would be unleashed on the world?_

Dean couldn't hear a sound over the howling of the wind around him, there was no way Sam could hear him. 

It seemed like hours passed before the darkness dissipated and Dean was slowly able to see his hands, then his feet and then the countryside. That was a real breath of fresh air. Though the chilling anxiety of the situation gripped at his throat and threatened to kill him there and then, he stood up and looked over top of the Impala. He couldn't see an awful lot, he wasn't exactly his brother's height so he couldn't see over top of the car the way his mammoth of a brother was able to. The incredible sensation continued to drag at his ankles and knees, begging him to just sit down and not move for a while. Despite his knees buckling as he went to walk to the other side of the car, Dean made it and was sure he had scratched his car each time he held onto it to prevent a fall. 

Nothing like this had ever happened. Dean never anticipated any events like this. How could anybody? The human race never anticipates the worst. They are eager to brush off the major things, 'oh it was the wind', 'my music is too loud, I can't hear properly', 'if I take this, nothing too bad will happen'. Nobody ever stops to think about the bad. While unlikely, it's still possible. Instead of imagining what could happen at the worst, people sing the song of the century and turn away. Dean was guilty of this. He would sing Bon Jovi when the going got tough, he'd enjoy a sneaky flick through a pornography magazine when trying to prevent an apocalypse and now, here he was, humming _Ramble On_ by Led Zeppelin quietly. 

It's so easy. With his humming, there's not bad situation. Led Zeppelin was almost like his safety blanket. 

"Sammy, you okay?" Dean sighed before he even got to the other side of the car. 

Nothing. 

Dean's knuckles were white. He turned and his face lost all color. There was no idiot younger brother hunched over in fear on the asphalt. It wasn't like he could've gone very far if he made a run for it. Maybe he was just cowering somewhere over in the grass.

The flat grass.

He knew. Sam wouldn't run. Sam couldn't hide.

_Fuck._


	2. Chapter 2

It felt like falling. 

It was like he was on a roller coaster. Like his stomach was flying over his shoulder and all he wanted to do was yell. Except, it was like he was on a roller coaster and he wasn't strapped in. It was like he could fall to his death at any moment. It was just a matter of waiting for it. Dean knew that if his brother wasn't by the car then something bad was happening so he figured the only thing to do was investigate. He wouldn't get anywhere just kneeling by the Impala, despite how much he would've wanted to. 

So Dean got in his car numbly and drove to the nearest town. The scariest part of the drive was that his senses were so incredibly overwhelmed by everything. About a mile down the road, he saw that a car swerved off the road. The roof of the car had been torn off and though Dean was far away, he could see the blonde hair and pieces of a human skull dangling from a jagged edge of the roof. He stopped the car, figuring that he had to see if anyone was pinned under the car which was unlikely but then again, this whole situation was. As he got closer to the car, he could smell vomit and smoke. Dean gagged as he caught wind of it but pressed forward. 

"Is there anybody there?" He asked, trying to peer around to the other side of the severely damaged Ford, "I'm here to help." 

Something under his foot crunched. Slowly, the hunter looked down at his foot and turned his head to the side, his stomach churning. He had trodden on a fragment of the driver's skull. He felt sick to his stomach but held down the vomit as he took a step backward to assess the situation. The driver was unidentifiable, the only parts of her head that remained attached to her neck was her jaw, her left ear and an eye that was being cradled in her jaw. Her hair was stuck onto pieces of metal that had obviously helped the vicious act of tearing her head in half. It was hard for Dean to think that this lady had just been going about her everyday business when the darkness came and her life ended. Just like that. It would've taken a second, Dean doubted that she felt anything. He felt awful, just looking at her and her car. This was him.

Unable to face the scene anymore, Dean turned and scurried back into his car. He drove away in fifth gear, not slowing down for anything. He didn't take his foot off the gas for any other accidents despite still catching sight of people who had been thrown from their vehicles. 

"Stop!" 

_What the fuck?_

Dean was two miles out of town and extremely confused as to why there was some a woman with jet black hair sprinting out into the middle of the road. Of course, Dean slammed on the brakes just as she walked in front of his car. He put the Impala in neutral, pulled the handbrake up and grabbed his gun on instinct. He didn't know who this was. She could be anything. 

With his gun in his hand, Dean climbed out of the car and looked at her. It took a moment for him to realise that he actually knew this woman. 

"Rhonda Hurley?" The woman nodded shakily and smiled at him, clearly she recognised him even without the pink panties on. "Are you okay?" Obviously she wasn't. Her thin black tights had ladders crawling up the sides and bottoms, obviously one of the clips on her garter belt had detached itself as the stocking on her left leg was uneven. In the ladders there were very clear and bloodied scratches. She had no shoes on and her skirt was torn. Clearly she was running, she'd probably fought something off, it looked like someone or something tried to drag her by her legs. Her mascara was striped down her face and she carried the very distinct smell of vodka. Dean lowered his gun quickly, "What happened?" 

That was when she tucked some stray hair behind her ear and drew in a few deep breaths, not much point in formalities when it seems like the end of the world and you made the person you're talking to wear a pair of your panties. "I was at home with my daughter, we were arguing about college. She got accepted to MIT," she explained slowly, resting her hands on the hood of the black classic car, "I didn't want her to go. It's too far away. She kept insisting that it was what she wanted to do. 'I want to go to MIT, I want to prove my teachers wrong', so I told her to go ahead and that if she walked out that door to go, she couldn't come back." Rhonda was trembling as she spoke, it was like she'd gone out in winter without a jacket on. "So she walked. That's when that smoke showed up. It cleared up and her scarf," she gestured to the scarf around her neck, "was on the doorstep. I picked it up and something grabbed my legs. It was my neighbour, he was fucking livid. I kicked him off, didn't slow him an awful lot but gave me enough time to run. I don't know how long I've been running for." 

Her daughter was gone. Sam was gone. That couldn't be a coincidence. And a killer neighbour? This was a fucked up situation and Dean had to fix it. It was in his nature to fix whatever he had a hand in causing. 

"I don't know what happened. She couldn't have left so quickly. I have a bad feeling in my gut," the short woman rambled, switching to lean her weight on her left foot. When she lifted her foot, Dean could see the nicks on the underside of her foot and cringed. 

"Get in the car. We're going to get you cleaned up and we're going to sort this out," he decided suddenly, nodding to the car. "We'll find your girl and we'll find my brother but we gotta work together. Deal?" 

Dean was always reluctant to work with people who weren't his brother and was even slower to agree to work with someone who wasn't a hunter but they were both in the same situation. It might help. It was clear that he was desperate because he offered and he had lowered his gun. Sam's life was on the line and so was the Hurley girl's. The hunter didn't press for a name, he figured that it would make for good conversation in the car if Rhonda accepted. They wouldn't go to town, from Rhonda's description, it sounded like it had gone to Hell. 

" _Deal_."


End file.
